Page 172 of Marks of Rebellion

33

Vanessa

The rest of the trip,Hunter and I spend enjoying the amenities of the ship. There are several stops at different islands. Hunter prefers us only to leave our room during those times.

I had several panic attacks over the last few days at random times, and each one is less severe than when I first came on the boat. One happened in the adult-only section of the ship. A man who looked like the Mexican drug lord, Jorge Cano, walked toward us. I dropped my drink on the floor. It wasn't possible, since he's dead, but I went into a full-blown attack.

Hunter pulled me into his arms, and we breathed through it while sitting in the cabana. After that, Hunter wanted to go back to the room, but I made him get in the hot tub with me. The man resembling Jorge got into the hot tub when we were in it. My heart raced a bit, but when he said hi in Portuguese, I began a conversation with him. His wife came over, and she spoke English and talked with Hunter. They were from Brazil. After a few minutes of talking with him, I realized besides a small resemblance to Jorge, he was nothing like him, and my heart went back to normal speed.

Another time my panic attack happened in the room when I was thinking about how to stop the movement the Global Leaders have in motion. When I finally was able to talk to Hunter, I made a point of telling him how my attacks can happen anywhere, and we didn't need to hide.

He still insisted we leave the room only when the majority of the people are off the ship.

We're in bed sleeping when the overhead speakers beep. As usual, I jump. Hunter pretzels his limbs around my body.

"Good morning. We have now docked. Please make sure that you are back on board by four o'clock for our departure to Europe. Enjoy your day in Bermuda."

Hunter rolls me on my back then leans on top of me. "I think we have some time to kill while everyone is fighting to get off this ship."

"Hmmm. What would we do with all that time?"

"You could talk dirty in Portuguese or Spanish or any other language I don't understand."

I push my hand through his tousled hair and laugh. In Portuguese, I say, "I want to lick your V and everything below it."

His eyes light up, and he kisses me. "Tell me more."

We spend the next few hours in bed, shower, then pack our few belongings in Hunter's backpack.

The crowd is thin, so it doesn't take long for us to get off the ship. There are scooters to rent and taxis waiting on the curb.

I point. "Can we get a scooter?"

"The roads are dangerous here. They are curvy and on the edge of cliffs."

"I'll hold on tight and wear a helmet. I'm sure you can handle it."

Hunter snorts. "Forgot you were my adrenaline junkie. Let's get to Blaise's house. Then we can dive into risky activities."

"Okay. Do you know where the house is?"

"I know the vicinity and the house if I see it."

A taxi driver approaches us. "Need a ride?"

"We do. I know the street and area of where we are staying and what the house looks like when I see it, but I don't have the physical address."

"Not a problem. I can take you."

"Great."

We climb into the car, and Hunter tells him the name of the street.

"Ahh. That is a nice, private area."

"Yes."

We talk to the driver for a good twenty minutes.